


Pulling Strings

by SamJoinedtheReconCorps



Series: A Flame in the Shadows [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Friendship, Ignoring Feelings, Lonely Essek Thelyss, M/M, Political Intrigue, Slow Burn, but moving towards, but we're still mostly, he's starting to warm up to them, post ep 61, pre feelings, spoilers for ep 97
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22996060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamJoinedtheReconCorps/pseuds/SamJoinedtheReconCorps
Summary: Essek knows he has to keep the mercenaries close - strictly for political reasons, of course.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Series: A Flame in the Shadows [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648909
Comments: 22
Kudos: 201





	Pulling Strings

**Author's Note:**

> here i am, awake since 3 am and after a 5 hour drive back to college with my best friend, here i am, with another Shadowgast fic because i'm just in a mood after episode 97 and i mean WHO WOULDN'T BE AFTER THAT FUCKING REVEAL
> 
> i really hope you guys like this next part of the series :))

The Shadowhand led them back above ground with ease, gracefully guiding them towards the Gallimaufry and his recommended Dim’s Inn. As they walk through the Firmaments again, he points towards an elaborate building, made of towers and connecting hallways. There are drow milling around on grassy nooks that surround the building itself, reading or just keeping each other company.

“Well, if you remember one of the things that was spoken of, ah, the Marble Tomes Conservatory.” His eyes flick to Caleb. “That would be, ah, where you would find the professor, should you be interested in looking for one avenue of income or questioning.”

“Appreciated,” Caleb answers with a small nod.

He holds Caleb’s gaze for a half second. “Of course.” Then he drops his gaze and continues to lead, “This way.”

Much like in the Shadowshire, they walk unbothered through the Firmaments, and once they cross into the Gallimaufry it is obvious that Essek was right - this  _ is _ the rowdier section of the city. Music can be heard, discordant in the way it conflicts with each other as it comes from different places. The buildings here are also different than those in the Firmaments or in the Lucid Bastion - here the buildings are almost in Imperial architecture, with a Dynasty touch to still set them apart from their truly Imperial counterparts. There’s also more commerce as carts are wheeled around and the smell of cooking meats and seafood begins to waft through the air.

This district is a familiar picture that can be found almost anywhere, and it comforts Caleb to see something like this in such a foreign place. Glancing around, he can see that the rest of the Mighty Nein are also more at ease in this sector, and he can hear Caduceus mention something about yams to Yasha as they pass by a steamed vegetable stall.

Turning a corner, the Shadowhand makes his way to a wooden building, made of the same dark purple wood that many of the other buildings are made of, with a sign that reads  _ The Dim’s Inn _ in Common, with two other phrases in other languages. Caleb has a feeling he knows what they say nonetheless.

“Oh, yeah, it says The Dim’s Inn,” Yasha comments, pointing at the bottommost text. And with that, Caleb nods along, the revelation exactly what he’d expected.

Stepping inside, he sees that there’s a handful of drow sitting around at the table, all looking like regular everyday workers. A couple are sitting at a table playing cards with an ogre - and winning, given the exchange of money that happens twice in the brief glance Caleb gives them as he looks around the inn.

“Um,” someone calls out, before he almost sounds relieved, “Oh, well, this is a surprise.” Turning, Caleb can see the inn’s clerk looking at their group, another drow man with a pencil white mustache who had been in the process of going through some ledgers. He addresses the Shadowhand. “Um, what, ah, what draws the Shadowhand to our, um, very humble, ah, place of business?”

The Shadowhand gives the man a polite nod. “Ah, yes, we have, ah, friends, of the Bright Queen, who are staying.”

He gestures towards the group, and as if they had rehearsed it they all bring out the emblems of the Bright Queen that they had been given before they left the Lucid Bastion. As Caleb tucks it back into his shirt to sit beside the warding amulet, he shakes his head, knowing that if they  _ had  _ rehearsed it that half of the group would have forgotten to bring it out entirely while one or two may have even accidentally brought out something incriminating, and even now Fjord tries to flip the amulet like a coin and fumbles with it slightly. Sometimes when they just wing it things go far better than they expected - case in point, his stunt with the beacon.

“They are to stay, ah, for the time being, at the Dynasty’s dime,” the Shadowhand finishes. “For the time being - until they decide what their, um, intent is based on the Queen’s last request,” he adds, glancing over the group. Turning back to the drow, “Um, so, take care of them, and should you need anything, well, we’ll know.” And with one final smile to the clerk, the Shadowhand turns and heads for the door.

“Excuse me, Essek?” Nott calls out.

The Shadowhand pauses, half turning towards her.

“Um, I know that, um, we trust that you won’t - that we’re not being watched at all times, but is an eye being kept out for our general movements or actions or, or do we -?” she asks, something that everyone was definitely thinking at one level or another.

“What do you think?” is the Shadowhand’s simple reply.

“A little bit?” Nott tries, still questioning.

“Maybe,” he answers, echoing his response to Caleb in the Dungeon of Penance when he’d asked about the criteria for getting Yeza out.

“Okay,” Nott nods. “Great, just wanted to know.”

“Of course,” the Shadowhand nods back.

Fjord, taking advantage of the second before the Shadowhand turns to leave again, speaks up. “Could I ask, is there anywhere we are not allowed to go?”

The Shadowhand turns more fully towards the group, “I would recommend not going into the Ghostlands. That would end poorly.”

Almost as if on cue, Fjord pales, and Caleb is briefly reminded of how absolutely terrified Fjord had been as they’d descended into Dashilla the Dreadful’s lair in the Diver’s Grave.

“Normally, I have an aversion to something named like that, but good point,” Fjord manages to get out.

“Yes, that’s beyond the walls of the Corona District. It’s the outside of the city,” he informs them.

“Is that the dark stuff?” Jester pipes up.

“Yeah, there’s no light there, initially,” the Shadowhand confirms. “That’s where, um, many of the scars of the Calamity still remain.”

And now the rest of the group takes a sharp breath as they realize just how close they are to such cursed land.

“The city expands, best as we can,” the Shadowhand continues, almost as if trying to placate some of their worries. “Or at least, as best as they can. I have no interest in the expansion, but as more people come to our city, there needs to be room, and there’s not - nowhere else to go but out, so.” He sighs, giving a respectful nod, “Brave folks looking for homes who fight against the darkness to find their homesteads.”

“And what -” Caleb begins to ask, but the Shadowhand is still talking.

“Such will is commendable,” he finishes, his eyes turning to Caleb.

“Excuse me, what is the best way to reach you if, ah, we - we feel we need to?” Caleb asks, holding the Shadowhand’s gaze.

His eyes flick away from Caleb as something hardens in his face for a second, just a twitch of movement, before returning to Caleb with the same polite expression. “Well, you’ve been, ah, speaking with your friend with certain means, I think perhaps you have such ways of talking to me should you require my aid.”

“I can send you a message any time you want,” Jester grins happily.

“Good,” the Shadowhand answers, nodding at Jester before holding Caleb’s gaze once more. “I look forward to it. Rest well.”

And with that he finally turns and exits The Dim’s Inn, leaving the Mighty Nein to their own devices and with much, much to talk about as they decide what their next plan of action is, and leaving Caleb curious about when they would next be seeing Shadowhand Essek Thelyss.

* * *

As soon as Essek returns home, he heads straight to his study, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He shrugs off the mantle, letting it fall to the ground in a crumpled heap as he steps onto the ground. He couldn’t care less about putting it away properly, not when his head is spinning and he can’t figure out how to instantly fix this.

So. A Beacon is back - returned by this new group of mismatched mercenaries. He grimaces, letting himself fall into the chair of his desk as he puts his head in his hands.

He had heard from the official reports months ago that the mission in Zadash to retrieve the beacon had been a failure, and when he hadn’t heard anything from his contacts at the Cerberus Assembly he’d assumed the reports were correct - the beacons were still in the hands of the Empire.

But, against all odds, here it was, proving that the mission - or a mission, since they never specified where they found the beacon - had been a partial success that they had seen to its completion. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. It was just his luck that these mercenaries had decided to betray the Empire and return it to the Dynasty rather than give it over to the Empire. They could have easily given it to them so they could see fit what to do with it and so that his hard work of smuggling it out wouldn’t have been undone just like that.

After a second, Essek sits up, grabbing a hold of the copper wire sewn into his shirt cuff as he begins to gesture the somatic components to  _ send _ a message. He was already composing the 25 word missive in his head when he paused, letting the spell dissipate at his fingertips.

They hadn’t told him that they had reached such a landmark achievement in their experimentation. He had been in the dark, remaining in the dark for months save for small memos reporting nothing of note. The only reason why the chemist, Yeza, had even been brought to him was because the Echo Knights that had been a part of the incursion on Felderwin sensed the remains of dunamantic energy at his lab. No one at the Cerberus Assembly had bothered to notify him of even that development.

He dropped his hands. They hadn’t even told him that the beacon had been successfully stolen - when he’d asked all those months ago all they’d said was that it was “in transit”, on the move to a more secure location.

Right now though, he had the upper hand. He had the information, and the chemist, and this clearly capable mercenary group at his - tenuous - disposal. If he played his cards right, he could potentially gain more here on his own than by running it through the Assembly first.

Taking a deep breath, he combs his hair back into a semblance of order. He would send word to the Assembly - in time. Right now, the message could be considered “in transit”.

Glancing out his study window towards where he knows the Gallimaufry is, he considers what to do next. Clearly he has to keep the mercenaries close, so he could monitor them more carefully, get a feel for their intentions and their skill sets. See how they can be of use.

His eyes flicker over to his bookcase, where he has dozens of texts on foundational dunamancy as well as books on theoretical knowledge and application of new spells that could potentially be created with what tools dunamantic spellcasters already have at their disposal.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he remembers the way bright blue eyes shined at the possibility of knowledge. He can pull the right strings to bring them close, but to  _ get _ close to them will be a whole other challenge to tackle. It will require being of service to  _ them _ , whether it be to show them new parts of the city or the culture, or to maybe even hazard to teach them other things. All risky business, but it's a good thing that Essek has always excelled at challenges and has never balked at risks.

* * *

The next day, after a morning’s worth of meetings at the Lucid Bastion, Essek heads to the Marble Tomes Conservatory, seeking to arrange for Professor Waccoh to meet with his new charges. His intervention, he quickly learns, is unnecessary - a pair from the group had already gone to meet with Waccoh, and had even taken a job from her, having departed for the Deepriver Mining Camp not but an hour before.

Essek takes the news with grace, nodding along as Waccoh describes the “strange humans” that had come around to see her despite wanting to groan that something so simple that could have curried their favor had already been done.

He is, nonetheless, impressed that Caleb and the human woman were the ones that had taken on this meeting, and he is even further interested when he hears Waccoh mention that Caleb’s a wizard. She told him about briefly glancing through his spellbook, catching sight of a few interesting spells but nothing that really gripped her attention. Just hearing about that makes Essek think of his own spellbook, sitting out of harm’s way in a tiny pocket dimension. He wonders if they would find any similar spells if they sat down to compare both books.

“Not as lively as the girl, but the wizard boy was really trying to get into the Tomes - something about wanting to learn more about his new home or whatever,” Waccoh threw over her shoulder as she folded up the Robe of Far Patterns and put it away with the rest of the items she had shown Essek that were on the table as potential rewards if the group got the job done.

His new home. Caleb had called Rosohna - had called the Dynasty - his new home. Essek had no idea what to make of that as his chest warmed unexpectedly, so, doing what he did best, he put it to the back of his mind as he excused himself and took his leave of Waccoh’s study.

If they could manage to pull off this job Waccoh sent them on, they would be proving themselves yet again in the eyes of the Dynasty. Essek, surprisingly enough, actually had faith in them. He was not only sure in their abilities due to their delivery of the beacon, but something about them made him actually believe in them.

Yet another feeling to tuck away and examine at a better time. Right now he had a den meeting to call together with the highest members of Den Thelyss, and he had a feeling that suggesting to keep the newcome heroes of the Dynasty close to their den would be an idea that no one would refuse.

* * *

Just as he’d presumed, the Umavi and other high members of Den Thelyss approved his plan to grant the mercenaries a home in the Firmaments, closer to their own seat of power. He oversaw the basic furnishing of the house that had been decided upon, one with plenty of rooms and a rudimentary pen and stables on the property, and he had just finished setting up the proper tethers to scry within the house whenever he chose to when he received a message from one of the Marble Tomes’ many researchers.

The mercenaries had returned - and they had returned victorious.

With one last sweeping look over the house, he exited, making sure to lock the door before pocketing the key and returning to his own home to freshen up. While he hadn’t done any physical labor and had used either hired muscle or his own gravitational magic to move the heavier furniture around, he knew that even an errant smudge of ink on his hands or the lightest scuff on his mantle could be noted and dissected by especially perceptive and insightful people. Essek didn’t want to find out just how well they could read people by allowing them to read him.

It wasn’t until later that afternoon, that he made his way to The Dim’s Inn, his magic keeping him dry in the rain. As he approached the front entrance he could already hear the loud voices of the group as they talked over each other.

Gaben, the owner who was still manning the clerk post at the front, saw him first. “Well, word seems to, uh, be saying that you’ve done very well lately,” he calls out to the group, drawing their attention towards the door where Essek stands.

“Well done,” Essek greets. “You have done, ah, quite a, quite a nice thing.” He can feel the weight of the key in his pocket as some of them smile at his words while others still watch him cautiously, and suddenly he feels nervous. “Well, I, ah, apologize for the intrusion, do you have a moment for your time, please?”

“Of course, Slow-Mo,” the half-orc nods as Jester graciously gestures to one of the chairs at their table, offering him a seat. “What was on your mind?”

While he knows the nickname should have bothered him, it instead threatens to make him smile. He manages to keep his face unimpressed. “Well, um, let’s just say that we’ve been very happy with what you guys have done for both the Bright Queen and, ah, the good professor. I hear that it fared well.” They nod quietly, allowing him to continue. “Because of these deeds under the light of the Luxon - and don’t think that Den Thelyss has not noticed this -” he adds, because he wants them to know who is taking care of them, where their allegiance should lie. He looks around at the inn. “Um, and we would not dare have you stay as friends of the Bright Queen in such a -” Essek leans in, and coincidentally Caleb is the person closest to him, so he leans in close to him and whispers, just loud enough for the rest of the group to hear him, “such a lowly establishment.” He straightens, but not before his eyes flicker over Caleb’s face, and he can almost swear he can see that he is flushed a light pink. A common side effect to having been out in the sun for the past few days of their trip to work Waccoh’s job, Essek surmises - but it is a nice color on him all the same. “So, while you were gone, we have sec-secured for you an abode within the Firmaments.”

The reaction is immediate. Jester’s mouth drops open while the half-orc’s eyes widen, and they all look at each other in disbelief.

“It’s already furnished and ready.” And, to show that he had paid attention to even the minutest of details, he adds, “There’s even a pen for your beasts.”

“Really?” Jester asks, barely containing her glee.

“That is very generous,” the firbolg says, ducking his head in what Essek assumes is a sign of gratitude.

“Is it like a - a rental or something? Like, do we have to pay for it?” Veth speaks up from where she’s seated between Caleb and Yeza, looking up at Essek and clearly waiting for there to be a catch.

“No, no, it is being provided,” Essek assures. No catch.

At least not one involving money.

“That is most unexpected,” Caleb finally says, and there it is again - that almost breathless quality to his voice, the Zemnian lilt of his words drawing Essek in again.

“You guys are giving us a - a house?” Jester wants to clarify, and it pulls Essek back, making him remember himself.

“Well, you’ve given us hope, and, ah, helped lessen the terrible impact of what the Empire has wrought on us, so it's the very least we could do,” Essek answers. A half-truth, or a half-lie, whichever way you want to look at it.

“That is most welcome,” the half-orc nods, seemingly still stunned by this favor bestowed upon them. “And very generous.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jester says, and others around the table echo her sentiment.

There’s a beat of silence before he asks, “Would you like to see it?”

Jester jumps up from her seat, both her and Veth saying, “Yes, yeah!” at almost the same time.

Caleb’s quiet, “Yes,” however, rings louder than anything else as Jester mentions going upstairs and grabbing their things.

“Of course,” Essek grants, only barely listening to them. “I will wait for you outside.”

He moves outside, standing beside the front door. He can hear them start to hustle and bustle around the inn, heading upstairs and talking excitedly to each other. He can barely hear Veth and Yeza talking quietly, can barely hear Yeza’s shock at this new development when just days ago he was a prisoner of the Dynasty.

“You’ve made some, ah, you’ve made some unique friends,” Yeza tells her. Essek cannot agree more.

“I sure have,” Veth answers, and she sounds - fond.

Essek doesn’t have to see them to know that they’re both smiling. “I like them,” Yeza says honestly, and the rest of the conversation is lost amidst the noises inside the inn.

The cynical part of him scoffs at the sentiment. The quiet part of him wonders - wonders if he could grow to like them too.

Maybe five minutes later he can hear Gaben call out, “So, ah, you’re leaving us if I am to hear correctly?” There’s a quiet response that Essek doesn’t quite catch. “Well it's been fun.”

“Yes, it's been great,” Jester answers.

“Goodbye,” Gaben says loudly, dismissing them.

“Thank you, ah, for being so gracious with our animals,” he hears Caleb say, before there is the unmistakable sound of coin hitting the counter.

Curious, Essek moves to stand closer to the door, catching sight of the exchange.

“Well, I - I appreciate your patronage,” Gaben nods, scooping up the coins. “And paying me...for once,” he adds, voice low as if he were just speaking to himself.

“Oh, are we behind?” Caleb asks. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re - it was being paid -” Gaben starts, just as Caleb shakes his head, “No, be honest.”

“It was being paid for by the, ah, the Den Kryn,” Gaben repeats. “So, ah, it’s fine. It was a favor.”

Caleb looks unsure, almost a little sheepish in his unease. “Um, let’s make it ten,” he says, pulling out more gold pieces and setting them on the counter.

“I won’t argue,” Gaben shrugged, moving to grab the coins.

“Appreciate it, thank you,” Caleb nods once more, now heading for the door.

As Gaben pockets them, he laughs under his breath, “Humans.”

It’s so low, and so quiet, that Essek knows he only heard it because he was watching everything, and he caught Gaben saying it, reading his lips with ease. But when he sees Caleb’s shoulders tense, he knows he heard him too.

For a split second, Essek considers stepping inside and reprimanding the innkeeper, demanding he return Caleb’s money and apologize for his rude comment - he even considers threatening to tell the Bright Queen about his foul behavior towards her esteemed guests.

The idea evaporates almost as quickly as it came when he realizes no one else heard. All he’d be doing is making a scene where Caleb has just let it go, so Essek does the same, letting out a huff of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before sliding out of view and to his previous place waiting by the door. He’s not sure he’ll react too kindly to any future unprovoked transgressions.

They all file out moments later, with Caleb and the half-orc giving him a curious look as they see that the rain isn’t falling on him. Essek pretends not to notice their looks, but he preens beneath it all the same.

Once they’ve retrieved their moorbounders, Essek begins leading the way once again through Rosohna, taking them back to the Firmaments. As they walk, he can hear them all chatting amongst themselves before he hears Veth exclaim, “Oh, yes, items, items!”

Glancing over his shoulder, he catches sight of Caleb handing over the Staff of Withering to the firbold with a quiet, “Caduceus.” So, not only does he now have a name to the face, but he sees that they have taken the items over the gems as payment for their job. Interesting.

“What about the sword thing?” Veth asks.

“We have that - in a bag,” Caleb answers easily.

“Hold it up to the sword -” she starts, motioning holding a sword.

Caleb shakes his head, gesturing to their walk, “Let’s get to our new digs.”

There’s a bit of bickering and frankly childish back and forth between all of them, and, with a shake of his head and an amused smile he would deny was ever there, Essek turns back to continue leading, their conversation welcome background noise to the now quieter streets of the Firmaments.

“This way,” he says, loud enough for them to hear and bringing their attention back to their walk.

Things get quiet for maybe a minute or so before Jester exclaims, “Holy shit!” Before Essek can even turn around to ask what’s wrong, he hears her whisper to someone, “By the light, that guy floats.”

Essek suppresses a sigh, but deems it smarter to not acknowledge that and just continue on.

However, when they finally reach the home, he can’t help but turn and watch their faces as they realize the beautiful two story Vermaloc wood mansion is theirs. Jester and Veth can both barely suppress their delight while the half-orc and Yeza are staring at it with wide eyes. The human woman and the other, taller woman both look slightly impressed, while Caduceus smiles softly.

Caleb though - his eyes are filled with awe, his mouth moving to form a soundless, “Oh,” as he takes in the beautiful stone foundation and the short, three-story tower connected to the back of the house. His eyes wander to the dark clay-tiled roof and the balcony on the second floor, dropping to see two expertly crafted stained glass windows that are reminiscent of the ones in the Lucid Bastion - a small modification in the structural decor of the house that Essek was glad he’d asked to be added.

“For as long as you have need,” Essek tells them, his eyes on Caleb, “this home is yours, under the direction of Den Thelyss.” He allows himself a smile. “Make of it as you will, and enjoy, friends of the Bright Queen. There will be more to be done soon enough.”

He drifts closer to Caleb, pressing the key to the house into his hands. His skin is warm to the touch, warmer even than his own skin, but Essek doesn’t mind it one bit.

Caleb looks up at him, and the expression of awe hasn’t disappeared when his eyes are on Essek, and Essek feels like a moth again, heading towards the flame - 

“Can I ask - a, a question?” the half-orc speaks up.

Essek turns to him, dropping his hand beneath the folds of his mantle.

“We ran into someone who mentioned that they have gatherings, uh, over in these areas of worship, in the Firmament. Regular displays of letting the sun in a bit?” the half-orc says, like a question.

“Right, that is correct,” Essek answers quickly.

“Uh, is - is such a display scheduled to happen anytime soon?” he asks.

“That is not up to me,” Essek shrugs. “I am not one of the priests of the Luxon, but, uh, usually when the weather is right and it's been time and when they decide, then, ah, yes.”

“Do they, uh, send out like a, uh, communique or a call or a horn or...?” he follows up.

Essek pauses for a second before answering. “You’ll know because the -”

“Right - sun,” the half-orc nods, and Essek can see the way he’s already mentally cringing at his own question.

“- sun will come out, which is rare, in this town,” Essek finishes.

“Now that I’m saying it out loud I feel kind of stupid,” he whispers to the human woman.

“It’s alright,” Essek assures him, slightly amused that what he believed to be a stupid question was enough to deflate this man. If it weren’t for “stupid” questions, no one would ever learn anything. “Anyway,” he says, looking around at them all, keeping his eyes from straying towards bright blue, “enjoy your abode. If you need anything else -”

“Thank you,” Jester smiles widely, spreading her arms. She looks at him expectantly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Essek replies, watching her. She can’t really be asking for what he thinks she’s asking.

She keeps her arms spread wide, still smiling broadly, encouragingly.

With a quick glance around, he realizes, yes, that really  _ is  _ what she’s asking for from the looks of fond amusement on everyone’s face. There’s a sparkle in Caleb’s eye as he watches the two of them, and maybe Essek secretly has been affection starved and maybe he secretly wonders if that spark will shine brighter in Caleb’s eyes, but before he even realizes what he’s doing he’s drifted closer to Jester, bending over just slightly.

She wraps her arms around him tightly, giving him a squeeze that almost knocks the breath out of him with her completely unexpected strength. He can see the human woman and Veth stifle a laugh while Caduceus merely shakes his head with a smile. Caleb meet’s Essek’s eyes over Jester’s shoulder, and although his smile is soft, it's there, and Essek almost lets himself believe it's for him.

“You - you’re welcome,” he stutters out after Jester has held him for maybe longer than necessary.

“Thank you so much,” she whispers in his ear before letting him go, and he wrinkles his nose at the feeling but still gives her what he hopes is a polite nod.

“Anyway,” Essek says, his shoulders still pinched from how tense he’d grown do to the unfamiliarity of the hug. “I’ll take my leave.”

He doesn’t even wait for their goodbyes before he disappears down the street, not turning back for fear of whatever else they might come up with - and for fear that they’ll see the small smile tugging on his lips that he just can’t seem to fight off.

A very unique group indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaand that's that for this part!! Idk if Essek told the Cerberus Assembly right off the bat as soon as the Mighty Nein showed up, and/or if the CA was even keeping him up to date on all the experiments as soon as they happened, but I'm making these decisions because idk it just felt right
> 
> Caleb tho...Caleb and Essek though...the way Essek is slowly starting to just crumble and how he hides behind his political mask...Luxon I can't wait until Thursday to fucking know more about the aftermath of ep 97 T.T
> 
> alrighty well, the scenes that inspired this fic are from:  
> In Love and War | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 57 - 2:24:00 - 2:37:00  
> Wood and Steel | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 58 - 1:27:00  
> Agreements | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 61 - 3:11:00 - 3:24:00


End file.
